


the art of falling

by parksquared



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Getting Together, M/M, Mostly Fluff, awkward!woojin, introvert!jihoon, platonic nielwoon cameo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 01:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15402303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parksquared/pseuds/parksquared
Summary: Jihoon and Woojin meet at the Korean National Police University and fall in love





	the art of falling

**Author's Note:**

> i watched midnight runners and couldn’t stop thinking about 2park as students in a police university. this is not a midnight runners au though because there is no crime solving here. i just used the movie as reference for life in a police university.

“Attention. All recruits to gather at the square in five minutes. Please say your goodbyes.” 

“Mom, I gotta go! They’re calling for me,” Jihoon says, ducking his head as his mom attempts to comb through his perennially messy hair. It is embarrassing. He is closing in on twenty and his mom is still treating him like he’s five. He has first impressions to make and being a mummy’s boy is not the image he wants to cultivate over the next four years. 

“My precious son, take care of yourself. Drink loads of water and if training is too difficult, come home. You don’t need to become a policeman.” Jihoon's mom disregards Jihoon's attempts to pull away and holds his arm in a vice grip, the other hand transiting to caress his face. Jihoon gives up, knows from past experience that when his mom is in one of those moods, it is faster to leave her be. 

But that does not stop him from feeling self-conscious, as if there are invisible eyes on him. Jihoon flushes and whines. “Mom! I’ll be fine! Stop fussing!” Jihoon hears the announcement in the background again and takes the opportunity to rush out a goodbye. “Love you!” 

Jihoon turns on his heel and promptly knocks against someone’s firm shoulder. 

_Oh, he’s handsome_. The unnamed recruit is handsome in a rugged way, all glorious tanned skin pulled tautly against a lean body. The expression on his face is incredibly dour but he wears it well. 

“Watch it!”

 _Right._ Scratch that. Jihoon quickly adjusts his opinion of him. So what if he’s handsome. It doesn't matter when he’s got an ugly personality. Jihoon glowers at him, decides that not to even deign him with a response. Jihoon walks off to join his fellow classmates whilst muttering under his breath about the rude stranger. 

He soon forgets about him when the chief inspector asks that they bow to their parents to wish them a safe journey home. 

Well, shit just got real. He is officially a recruit. 

 

x

 

Life as a student of the Korean National Police University is, for the lack of a better word, difficult, more difficult than Jihoon had imagined it to be. 

Jihoon had thought that the ugly crew cut that every recruit had to sport would be the hardest adjustment to make, but he now recognises that as over-optimistism. Even though time passes quickly, as it is wont to with highly regimented schedules that’s followed with clockwork precision, he is left bone tired every night. He falls asleep unconsciously. Every morning starts with drills, then classes in the afternoon, then night drills again and not forgetting, the planned surprise drills—the kind that everyone knows is coming but do not know what or when exactly; the kind that amps up the restlessness in everyone’s heart.

Personal space, too, is a remnant of the past. He is constantly surrounded by people, well meaning people who he mostly likes, people who can’t seem to stop talking, _people_. Jihoon _is_ capable of masquerading as a social butterfly—he is in fact slowly becoming one of the most popular students—but deep within him is an introvert dying for some personal time to recharge his quickly depleting energy reserves. There is only so much he can take before he loses his mind, which is why the discovery of the fire escape is so precious to him. This precious space that smells musty, with a passageway so narrow that it would not pass muster in any inspection. His fire escape. A space where he can be alone. _His._

Until now. 

Fucking Park Woojin. Who, by the look of that stinker on his face, is itching for a fight and Jihoon feels high-strung enough to give it to him. Isn’t it bad enough that he has to sit next to Woojin in _every_ class, no thanks to the assigned seating arrangement? He has already suffered through hours of Woojin’s impenetrable thick wall of gloominess. All he wants now is fucking thirty minutes of peace before it’s lights out and the same shitty day starts again. 

Jihoon thinks about how best to convey his unhappiness over Woojin’s presence without seeming unhinged or unreasonable but gets distracted by what Woojin is holding between his fingers.

“That’s not allowed.” Fuck, fuck, fuck, that is not what Jihoon had meant to say. Damn his lack of brain to mouth filter when he’s tired. He’s supposed to be the cool popular kid, not this goody-two-shoes who cares too much about rules. 

Woojin scoffs, deliberately takes a puff of that cancer stick, blows out the smoke like a taunt. “You gonna report me?”

“Oh. So you can speak.”

Woojin rolls his eyes, slides down the wall to sit on the dusty floor and looks away, killing any possibility of prolonged conversation. Jihoon feels mildly offended at Woojin’s dismissal, but he too hates making small talk and any interaction that requires less talking is a good interaction in Jihoon’s current state of mind. Jihoon folds himself in half by the corner of the stairway and lets his mind wander.

As far as unwanted companions go, Woojin isn’t the worst. At least he doesn’t talk. If not for the rancid cigarette smell permeating the stairway, Jihoon can almost pretend that he isn’t there. 

Jihoon hears a shuffle, assumes that it’s Woojin snuffing out his cigarette and does a mental cheer that he’s about to be truly alone again. What he does not expect is Woojin clearing his throat and hovering as if he’s gearing up to say something. What he also does not expect is Woojin sighing instead and leaving without saying a word. 

That was weird. 

(Somehow they enter a wordless agreement to share the fire escape. They don’t talk in the time that they spend there.)

 

x

 

The worst thing about being at KNPU Jihoon concludes after two months is the mandatory judo classes. The class description had simply said learn how to defend yourself against possible attacks, which sounded really cool but in reality, is a total farce. Instead of living out the life of a martial arts expert—performing cool throws over the shoulders and sweeps under the feet—as seen in the movies, Jihoon finds himself performing drill after drill of pushing and pulling his opponent’s lapels and having their hot breath fan against his face; drill after drill of practicing falls which just means throwing himself on the floor without any provocation and going back to the dorms with a bruised tailbone. All he’s been doing is hurting himself instead of others, how’s that for a defensive class? He’s not into masochism, thank you very much. 

Today seems like yet another day of endless drills. _Learning how to fall is the most important part of judo. Practice these so that you don’t hurt yourself when we do the real throws._ Jihoon recites to himself sarcastically. Jihoon would agree with that sentiment, if he was not already hurting himself doing these damn drills. He’d rather take someone down as well, while he’s at it. 

Jihoon drags himself to class, runs to fall into place when the instructor shouts at them for loitering. Ah, yet another thing he hates about these classes—the endless shouting, as if that ever achieves anything. 

“We’re going to try something new today. I will demonstrate the most basic throw with instructor Kang,” instructor Ha commands and swiftly demonstrates, pulling instructor Kang in then rolling him over his shoulder effortlessly. 

It is almost comical seeing someone of instructor Ha’s stature try to flip instructor Kang, who looks like he eats dumbbells for breakfast. But he flips him so easily as if instructor Kang weighs nothing at all. 

The class gasps collectively and it is as if instructor Ha was waiting for this, for he puffs up and grins at the class triumphantly. “Pair up and we’ll start practicing.” 

Pair work. That split second before everyone starts moving towards their friends stretches and it’s almost as if time has come to pause, before speeding up again suddenly and natural pairs have been formed in that small window of time. Jihoon avoids the eye of some of his classmates, especially Taewoon who gives him the creeps with how he stares at him sometimes. He looks around, praying that he’ll find someone before Taewoon reaches him.

His unexpected savior comes in the form of Park Woojin. 

He looms and hoovers, as is his forte, glaring at everyone and anyone in his line of sight. Finally, he comes to stand next to Jihoon. “Partners?” 

Jihoon sees Taewoon quickening his pace and yeah, okay, better the silent brooder than the creepy starer. Jihoon nods and they stand next to each other, symbolising that they are a pair. 

“Remember the drills that we’ve been doing on breaking falls,” instructor Kang helpfully calls out. 

Woojin grabs Jihoon’s lapels, holds onto Jihoon’s belt and shifts his weight, rolls Jihoon over his shoulder and drops him unceremoniously onto the mat. Jihoon goes like a ragdoll and forgets every drill, every tip for breaking falls, as soon as his feet lift off the ground. He feels like he’s free falling and crashes onto his back, limbs in the air like an overturned turtle. Jihoon blinks to get rid of the stars and looks up to Woojin smirking at him. 

Ok, judo is most definitely his most hated class. 

 

x

 

Woojin and Jihoon's dynamic changes. They’re not friends—they hardly talk but they work well together. Woojin is convenient when Jihoon wants to avoid being paired with strangers in classes where his friends are not in; convenient when Jihoon is tired of his friends and just wants some peace. Jihoon doesn’t quite know what Woojin gets out of this arrangement—it can’t be companionship since they don’t talk _at all_ , but he supposes it is a desired one since Woojin initiates most of the time. Perhaps, Woojin sees a safe haven in Jihoon as well, for whatever undisclosed reason that Jihoon is not interested in unravelling yet. 

Jihoon swears he’s not too fussed about it. But when Haknyeon asks him for the millionth time about his relationship with Woojin, Jihoon finds himself hard pressed to find an answer. 

Woojin is an enigma. He eats alone, walks alone. Nobody has ever heard him laugh. It is almost as if he’s a ghost or a figment of Jihoon’s imagination. He is not rude, but in a place where cliques are formed as quickly as the wind blows over, nobody has really bothered to approach Woojin or bring him into their fold. All Jihoon knows of Woojin is Woojin’s name, his recruit number and his birthday from the time they had to establish age hierarchies so that the hyungs are called hyungs and those younger can be put in their place by virtue of age.

Today, he adds a couple of new useless facts to what he knows about Woojin. 

To his eternal shame, Jihoon never quite masters the art of falling properly in judo. Perhaps it’s that he never bothered about the foundations or that there’s some unknown trauma about falling but the fact remains: he is too busy playing catch-up when everyone else in class has progressed to practicing more advanced sweeps, performing transitions combined with actual sparring. 

Woojin doesn’t seem to mind that they are falling behind. Honestly this lack of understanding of Woojin’s motivations grates on Jihoon sometimes, but the thought of having to engage in significant amounts of small talk before getting to the heart of the matter tires him out, so he never bothers. He would rather Woojin do all the approaching and he respond accordingly. 

While Woojin doesn’t seem to mind Jihoon's apparent incompetence when it comes to judo, Jihoon does. He can’t bear it—he feels a hot flush of shame every time he gets tossed and lands badly, when they have to take a pause because something hurts or when he can’t do a move because he’s still fucking playing catch up. He books it to the dojo once night drills end, determined to get the art of falling right. 

To his surprise, he finds Woojin already there, practicing throws by himself by pulling a resistance band that he’s tied around a hook on the wall. Jihoon leans against the wall, appreciating the power and mastery behind Woojin’s every move, how practiced he is. _What the fuck._ None of it makes any sense, but yet it does. Jihoon thinks back on how Woojin has executed every move easily after half assed explanations because _we learn better by doing_.

“Are you going to just stand there and stare?” Woojin releases the resistance band, lets it smack against the wall. 

“Why do you partner me in class?” Jihoon walks towards Woojin slowly. 

“Do you want to learn how to fall or not?” Woojin says, walking to the center of the mat and waits for Jihoon to join him. 

Woojin turns out to be a better teacher than Jihoon had expected. He is patient and a lot more hands on than Jihoon had expected with the careful nudges, feeling each other to ensure engagement of the right muscles. Perhaps it’s the lack of watchful eyes from his classmates or that Woojin already knows the full extent of Jihoon’s abilities, but contrary to being in class, Jihoon feels safe to fail and make a fool out of himself in front of Woojin. 

“I know I’m handsome but stop holding your breath when I throw you,” Woojin says with a serious face that eventually cracks and a small smile emerges.

 _Is... is that Woojin’s first ever attempt at a joke?_ Jihoon decides the best course of action might just be to play it cool and scoffs. “What even. There are so many wrong things with that. I’m not holding my breath.” 

“You breathe like you are waiting for the fall and you stop breathing once I grab you.”

“That’s because I _am_ going to fall.” You dumbass goes unsaid but heavily implied in Jihoon’s tone. 

“Well, stop—,” Woojin tugs Jihoon’s arm suddenly, sweeps Jihoon’s back foot and pushes him back; a throw they have practiced countless times together. Jihoon goes easily without resistance, letting the momentum carry him and he lands on his back. Woojin follows through with the action with textbook precision—his body falls on top of Jihoon’s, holding him down with his face dangerously close to Jihoon’s, and his right forearm smacks against the mat, bracing his fall. 

“That’s better. At least you breathed this time,” Woojin says, the low bass reverberating against Jihoon’s ear.

Jihoon looks up at Woojin, his hand clutching Woojin’s lapels. “How’s that supposed to help me?” 

“Practice.”

Woojin is still lying on Jihoon and he doesn’t seem like he wants to get off anytime soon. Jihoon can feel the heat emitting from Woojin’s body—the result of their earlier exertions. Jihoon’s eyes search Woojin’s face, reads the softness in Woojin’s eyes, the smile playing on his lips. Jihoon feels like they are at the cusp of something new and he feels deep within him that whichever action he takes next would be a turning point. 

Jihoon must have been staring too intensely at Woojin, for he mouths a what at Jihoon and Jihoon makes the decision for both of them. 

He surges up and captures Woojin’s lips between his, caressing them with his. Woojin rests his weight on Jihoon and moves to cradle Jihoon’s jaw with his hand, angles his head for a deeper kiss.

Time feels like it has stopped. Jihoon doesn’t know how long they stay like that, pressed together. All he knows is the warmth from Woojin’s hand, wetness from Woojin’s mouth and the smoothness of Woojin’s skin.

Soft pants fill the air when they separate and take it much needed oxygen, almost as if they’ve just completed a marathon. Jihoon looks at Woojin through hooded eyes, sees how dazed he looks. But the dazed look sharpens and Jihoon feels it before it’s verbalised, knows instinctively that that does not bode well and is proven right. 

“I, I gotta go.” Woojin scrambles off Jihoon, speed walks before giving up all pretence of escaping and runs out of the door.

Jihoon drops his head against the soft mat, thumps against it again for good measure and lets out a long sigh.

New fact: Woojin’s lips are soft and Jihoon wants to kiss him again. 

_Fuck._

 

x

 

(Woojin stops coming to the fire escape. He stops seeking Jihoon out for pair work as well.

As for Jihoon, well, it doesn’t matter what Woojin does. But Jihoon can't help but let his eyes trail after Woojin when he walks past in the canteen or along the corridor; he can't help but feel an itch every time he thinks of their kiss, of how Woojin ran away with his proverbial tail tucked between his legs and how things are still unresolved, but he buries these feelings deep within him. There is no need to fix anything. They were never friends anyway.) 

 

x

 

An essential tenet of the full KNPU experience is the end of term fitness assessment. Since it’s KNPU, the best (only) university for potential police officers, completion of an obstacle course designed to test agility, strength and stamina is not enough. You are truly fit for service only if you are able to run up, down, across, around the mountain in front of campus within an hour, a winding path that’s full of tiny rocks and wild roots. 

Failure to complete the route only means being held back for another year or in some cases, a strongly worded letter to consider dropping out. It’s high stakes and every recruit knows it. 

However, it is what Jihoon has been looking forward to completing with ease. Running has become second nature to Jihoon both literally and metaphorically since that ill timed kiss with Woojin. The results of his exertions are obvious. He is fitter than he has been for some time and his body is leaner than ever. 

It comes as no surprise that the high stakes result in Jihoon finding Woojin sitting on a bed of dead foliage, his ankle twisted at an ugly angle, looking a little defeated, helpless and angry as Jihoon makes the run up the slope. Faster recruits must have ran past Woojin and ignored him, in order to complete their test in good time. 

Jihoon has two choices to make, both with clear outcomes: ignore Woojin and he’s definitely moving on to the next year; help Woojin and he’s definitely going to be held back, erasing a whole year’s worth of work. 

It would be disingenuous of Jihoon to pretend that the latter is his instinctive first choice. The practical side of him thinks that that’s the only choice, but he thinks of how Woojin has helped him in judo and even if their current relationship is an amorphous blob of undefined feelings and bad timing, Woojin does not deserve to be cast aside and left behind to rot in this place until the test ends and the instructors send someone to get him. 

Jihoon makes a choice that he hopes to every known and unknown deity that he will not live to regret.

“Can you stand?” Jihoon asks as he comes to stand next to Woojin. 

“No, it’s—,” Woojin does not complete his sentence but gestures at his ankle. 

_Right._

Jihoon leans over and puts out his hand. When Woojin stares at it blankly, Jihoon wiggles his fingers to beckon Woojin to grab it. He pulls Woojin up and grunts when he feels Woojin’s weight resting against him. This is not going to be easy. 

Jihoon stands in front of Woojin, bends his knees into a slight squat and looks back at Woojin. “Get on.” 

“What? No, I’m too heavy!” 

“Do you see a cart here that I can pull instead? Quickly, get on, I’m getting tired.” Jihoon turns to look ahead.

“Thanks,” Woojin mumbles when Woojin loops his arms around Jihoon’s neck, his breath fanning against Jihoon’s ear. Jihoon hopes that the blush he feels developing on his face does not spread to his ears. 

The first few steps are surprisingly easy despite having to get used to the additional weight on his back. His legs start feeling heavy ten minutes as if he is walking through sludge. They are now only halfway through the punishing route and Jihoon feels like a distraction is desperately needed. 

With that in mind, Jihoon talks—goes for the big guns, addressing the elephant in the room. Jihoon supposes that after you’ve had someone’s tongue in your mouth—sending tingly sensations down your spine (that you still think about sometimes)—small talk like asking about the number of siblings Woojin has or what’s his favourite colour is no longer a social obligation. 

Jihoon clears his throat. “Why are you avoiding me?” 

“Why did you kiss me?” comes Woojin’s quick non-reply. 

Okay, Jihoon thinks to himself, they really are doing this. “Well, why did you kiss back?” 

“You are not annoying.”

“Wow, thank for the compliment. I’m going to drop you to show you how annoying I can be,” Jihoon shakes and pretends to shift Woojin off his back. 

“Yah, yah! Stop it,” Woojin says clinging onto Jihoon like a koala, presses himself even closer to Jihoon, hooking his chin onto Jihoon’s shoulder. 

_Fuck, that’s cute_ , Jihoon thinks to himself. He laughs lightly, his spirit lifted, and adjusts his grip so that Woojin’s resting more comfortably against his back. 

Jihoon continues trudging along the path, with the sound of leaves crunching in the wake of his steps and their breathing accompanying their journey.

“I wanted to,” Woojin says suddenly. 

Jihoon makes a questioning noise that's a cross between a whine and a hum. 

“About kissing you. I… I like you.” 

_Oh._

Jihoon blushes at the sudden confession. He laughs embarrassed, looks down to hide his face and the smile threatening to split his face (even though nobody can see him) and he says, “Ah, thank you,” instinctively. “I, uh, I kinda like you too.” 

Woojin hums deep in his chest consideringly, as if he is mulling over Jihoon’s word choice, and Jihoon feels it vibrating against his back. A shudder travels through his body and goosebumps raise on his forearms. Jihoon doesn't know if that's a good or bad hum.

Maybe it’s the abrupt confession but they fall silent, as though both are deep in thought about what has transpired. The question of what next looms over them but none of them know how to broach the topic. The silence makes the easy camaraderie awkward and Jihoon feels compelled to fill the silence. “We are about to reach soon.” 

“Yeah, maybe another twenty minutes,” Woojin says, with all the seriousness in the world. 

“Ah, we’re so fucking awkward.”

Woojin laughs. “Should we start kissing instead?” 

The randomness of that suggestion came so far out of the left field that it draws out a burst of loud laughter from Jihoon. “Then we’ll never make it back.” 

Jihoon turns his head to look at Woojin from the corner of his eyes and continues, “maybe when we get back,” and is rewarded with a snaggle toothed smile. Jihoon’s heart clenches and he wonders if this is what falling deeper for someone feels like.

The sun starts to set, painting the sky with pretty pastel hues of pinks, orange and purple. Jihoon marvels at the majestic view and tells Woojin to look. He blushes when Woojin drops a cheesy line about him being prettier than any sunset on him instead. 

Jihoon wonders if he fully understands what he’s gotten himself into—who this man he just admitted to having positive feelings for is—and figures that they’ll have plenty of time to find out more about each other, especially if they do get held back for another year. 

They continue, one slow step at a time, all whilst maintaining a light conversation, mostly filled with Jihoon whining about Woojin’s weight and his back hurting as soon as he realised that this was a good way to extract more promises from Woojin to make it up to him. 

They finally reach the starting point after two hours and instructor Ha and Kang shout at them, asking them to hurry up. Jihoon steps up his pace and expends his last energy on a light jog. When they reach the group, Jihoon drops Woojin onto the ground, careful not to injure his foot even further. Jihoon collapses once that's done, breathing harshly. Jihoon makes a face when the wind blows against his back, where the back of his shirt is entirely dripping with sweat and sticking to his back

It is truly a sight to behold seeing the normally efficacious instructor Kang’s face turn sour and shout at lines of recruits about the important of honour and being people of good character, all of that hakuna matata nonsense, using his big build to loom with great effect.

It is also a sight to behold seeing instructor Ha break the other students with a simple but effective command to “run the course again”.

But the best sight is behold is the 180 degree change in their demeanour when they look down at Jihoon and Woojin and congratulate them on passing the test. 

 

x

 

Woojin and Jihoon become _woojinandjihoon_.

Jihoon adds new facts to what he knows about Woojin everyday. 

He learns that Woojin has little to no interest in being a policeman, that his real interest is in dancing but he’s here to satisfy his parents’ need for him to have a degree; that KNPU is convenient because of the free tuition and space away from his parents; that he sulked around for the first few weeks because of this.

He learns that the resulting isolation from sulking around in the first few weeks was one of the hardest times for Woojin in KNPU, that despite his outward appearance, Woojin is a lot more extroverted than Jihoon will ever be; that if not for the chance meeting in the narrow stairway of the fire escape, Woojin would never have dared to ask Jihoon to partner with him.

He learns that Woojin is one of the noisiest people he’ll ever meet in this lifetime, that he is full of natural cutenesss and that once he’s fully and completely drawn out of his shell, nothing but Jihoon’s kisses can make him shut up, which he uses to his advantage. 

He learns that Woojin ran away after they kissed because he panicked and in the weeks that Woojin did not visit the fire escape, he spent them on the roof staring at the night sky, wondering how to undo history, to go back to the dojo and this time, to hold onto Jihoon tightly instead.

He learns a great deal of other things about Woojin like what makes him tick, what makes him laugh, what makes him cry and how to deal with his moods.

He learns how Woojin likes to be kissed, how he moves when they fuck, how he whines when he comes and how to elicit the most melodious sounds from him.

He learns that falling in love with Woojin is very much like free fall, trusting that he will be safe in Woojin’s hands. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading till the end! hope this wasn't too terrible ;;
> 
> i like kudos and comments so let me know what you think! 
> 
> my twitter is [05294DJ1 ](https://www.twitter.com/05294DJ1)


End file.
